


Cake high

by Cahoots



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Drug Use, Dubious Consent, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Trickster Mode (Homestuck)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 10:13:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21967630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cahoots/pseuds/Cahoots
Summary: a short fic about dirk the designated driver and dave being all over him. Set during the rose and kanaya wedding from the snapchat arts! no cars are involved.
Relationships: Dave Strider/Dirk Strider
Comments: 7
Kudos: 58





	Cake high

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nuclearwinter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nuclearwinter/gifts).



> finally releasing this from the vault!!! not proud of this one its messy and silly but its my first real foray into writing proper smut. /shoves it into the public and runs
> 
> I was inspired by [this art](https://redlament.tumblr.com/post/152360344510/high-at-ur-friends-wedding) (give them love) and i had to  
> merry christmas nw <3 i hope you like but DW i will write more better stuff for u soon i promise i will actually do it i swear im gonna i will

"Dorky! Bromine-"

You knew it was coming, turned away from the punch bowl for it even, but you weren't prepared for him to come at you so fast. _Oof_ is the sound he makes when he impacts chest to chest, forehead glancing off yours - champagne glasses rattle behind you and somehow you manage to hold your ground.

"I am so...fuck. So happy. Jesus, dude. I'm ecstatic." He snorts into your shoulder, warm and heavy and your arms surround his waist. His hair is some monstrous loud lime atrocity but this close up in your face and up your nose - it's not so bad. Smells sweet. 

"Well, it was a wedding, don't think it gets much happier than that." You try not to munch hair as you speak, looking over his shoulder. Roxy's by the cake table, scarfing more down, and the happy wedding couple is in the middle of a dance circle, the fairy lights twinkling violently from all the shadows being cast from waving arms. The dancefloor is a lawless place. "It went perfect as far as I know, if you'd discount the juju spiking." 

Pausing, you expect some agreement or run-on contradiction, but receive only background music and the distant screaming laughter. Neon-Dave's just...breathing into your sleeve, slow, deep breaths like he's picked up a habit of parkour meditation, or is concentrating extremely hard on something. 

You pull back enough to see his face, palms flat under his cape, and his smile is blinding and he's staring. Not dazed, but staring open and honest and directly at your eyes under the pink tint of his transformed shades. Heat unsurprisingly rises to your cheeks and you remember what strawberries smell like, fresher than cordial and more sweet as he leans closer. Dave blinks once and you swallow, his lips are pinker like this, huh-

He licks your mouth. Your footing packs up and says goodbye as you're startled out of supporting his weight, sit heavily back into the table, and something wet and fruity seeps into your stripey pants and the pristine white table cloth that was destined for the trash can anyway - he saves you by clinging like death round your neck, giggling like a toddler on three consecutive sodas, nose squished into the side of yours.

You cough and fumble backwards to grab the edge of the table, and cool, your hand gets sticky too. Somehow, your smile just can't wipe, though. "Thanks, you just wet my pants." 

Dave gigglesnorts the orange suspenders framing your stupid tee. 

"Don't laugh. It's not funny. I'm at a wedding." 

He nuzzles violently into the crook of your shoulder, head rolling side to side.

"Sooo funny. So funny! Funnier than when you morphed into hella jeff-" 

"Ah, pardon me, Striders-" 

To your credit, you don't jump this time, even as an elbow brushes all up in your grill past your shoulders. Of course Jake is here next to you suddenly. Why wouldn't he be. 

"Just wishing to reach round for a smidgen of a glass."

You go very still as he leans around behind you and packs a flute with whatever's left of the punch. 

Alright, you're not sitting in a burning room but this is fine. You've got one body attached to your front, and another body brushing up your behind- behind you. As your ears approach the same new shade as your hair, Dave's giggles quiet down until it's just his shoulders shaking. Constantly. 

Huh. Jake's not in any eye-watering get up. 

"Didn't eat the cake, huh?" When you first saw him all dressed up today, you were surprised at how fashion forward he looked. Actually properly suited up, could easily camouflage in any magazine. 

"Yeah, ahem." You watch him loosen his tie. "I've been trying my darnedest to avoid the bloody thing with all I've got, I've dodged two engagements with serving spoons infringing the rear,-"

Something feels strange with Dave, like any weight he had on you is slipping away. You tune out as your gaze snaps to him and oh, he's floating. Actually voluntarily floating several generous inches off the ground. 

"-and that's, er. Dave? You faring alright, good man?" 

Dave looks to him with his grin like sunshine and slurs like he's drunk, swaying closer. 

"Jaaaake...I'm ferrying like a twenty hundred ton cruise ship on the waves of a rolllling ocean." Slow wink. "Let's party all. Damn. Night."

You straighten up and grab his wrist. 

"Okay, excuse us, let's go."

You don't see Dave's hoot of laughter as you tug him along behind you, unsure where you're headed. Just away, you suppose. 

"Hey broseph. Brobyo branana. What are we doing yo, 911 wee-ooo wee-woo party's back that way!"

"Going to get you some water." 

It's colder away from the twinkle lights, the sky more open and sharp as you head up the path, but Dave's hand wriggled into yours is still warm, and he's warmer still as he attaches himself to you again, chin hooked over your shoulder with a pleased hum. The scent of strawberries cloud over you again, mingling with the green smell of the trees.

He's humming a strange tune, like the refrain of some rap song, easily looped. You peer out the corner of your eye, and he stops on a lilt. Why'd he stop for. 

"What."

"You ain't as happy as me, Dirkledee."

"How do you know. Maybe I am."

"Nah, nah. You're not." Dave runs a finger under your chin and you misstep. "You didn't have enough cake, you need more."

For the first time around him tonight, you frown. 

"No, I had enough. Just doesn't work on me like it does on the rest of you. It happened the same last time." You don't expect him to ask about _last time_ , he's too far out of it. 

You reach the stairs leading up to the deck of the venue, the glass doors reflecting the shiny stars and the lantern lights in the distance. If your friends didn't have their very own windy weather god and it decided to rain today, the event could've been kept up here. You reach up over backwards to cup the back of Dave's neck, guide him in with you like some kind of floating cherub over your shoulder as you push a door open. 

"Becauseeee you didn't have enough last time, broseph. Duh, you need heaps more, a couple generous helpings, get you a cake or three, turn that frown uppy daisy, get you reaaal jumpin' then, baby." 

"Yeah," you say, ignoring how the petname makes your stomach feel. "Okay. Sure." 

It's completely empty in here, echoey shadowy space, especially when devoid of excitable gods and guests now. The coat check is behind the oak desk of the concierge, two simple closet doors to open. The lights are turned off inside there, you fumble a wall for the switch. "Let's just grab our coats-"

A force hits you in between the shoulderblades and you find numerous coats in your face, the sound of coat hangers jostle and the door thuds closed, and you're in surprising darkness. You don't have time to formulate a response as Dave pulls you back and leans you against the door, and there's something cold and metallic against your lips. 

You know it's him pinning you there because of the familiar strawberry scent, and you know the sound of his breathing, but your heart still jumps to your throat. 

"Come on, come on. Drink this up!" 

Your eyes adjust to the dark, your shades must've fallen off. You find his eyes are bare too and... are glowing faintly, a warm tungsten. Your lips part and he nudges your chin with his fingers.

"Be like me. It'll help."

He tips the cold against your lip and you tilt to meet it, find familiar orange soda flooding your mouth, hurry to swallow it. He must've taken the soda can headpiece from your stupid outfit - surprising it's actually full of what it's supposed to be. Or maybe not surprisingly. Logically speaking, there's no basis of sense for the juju drug, it stems totally from delirium and is honestly just the frightening building block for anything being possible when it's chaotically aligned and there's soda spilling over your chin he's pouring too fast.

You yank back and bang your head on the door, coughing, and get it down your shirt instead, sticky and wet, you're just having a very sticky and wet evening all over. Fuck. 

Dave lets it drain out over your pants too before the can is tossed aside, it rattles into a corner.

"Pfft, don't worry dude, I still got more options. Hold it in for me, gotta pile on the sweeet."

There's no way he thinks this is actually gonna work, there's still soda burning in your airway. You swallow. "Dave-" comes out in a wheeze, and you cringe at the sound, but the sudden heat from the proximity of his face distracts you before he pushes a clumsy kiss to your lips. Your head involuntarily thuds into the door again. You weren't expecting a kiss. 

From prior experience that long time ago, you know how the juju magic works. You know this isn't him, not really, and he doesn't actually want to make a zillion babies with you even if he could. But as his lips slide against yours, it tugs responses from you, and a warmth fills in your chest. His mouth is so soft. 

He licks your bottom lip and smooths his hands up your chest, sending little shocks through you as he brushes past your nipples. He gets a good grip of your shoulders. You should've seen it coming. 

He's so strong as he pushes you down, lean muscle hidden in his lanky arms. Your stomach swoops as you're forced to your knees, hitting them painfully on the carpeted floor and bumping your head into his hip. You have to grab his jeans for balance and he's steady as a rock. 

He pushes you back, sitting you on your heels, and you hiss in a breath as he cups your cheek and touches your lip. 

Your head aches a little as you look up at his shadow outline in the dark. You have to rely on your other senses, like the fingers touching your cheek, and he smells like him, he smells so good, you have his thumb in your mouth before you can stop yourself, clutching at his jeans. He presses down on your tongue. 

"Yeah, you need more... More in you, Dirk." 

Jesus, you've jumped straight out of a porno. Your face is so hot right now. His free hand drops from your shoulder and you hear him fumble, hear the zipper pull down. A groan bubbles in your throat and you pop off his thumb, yanking your head away from his hand. 

"Are you going to fuck my mouth?" You ask him, sounding ridiculously sober. 

Fuck. His teeth shine when he grins. 

"Hell yes bro." He sounds out of breath. "Gotta give you more sugar, baby."

He comes close again, and something nudges your cheek. You can hear him mumble over the rushing in your ears, "Direct hit." 

You're not really resistant. You're not...not resistant at all. But you are taking a trip to freak out town right about now. This isn't himself and you can't have your first time sucking him off or even getting him to anywhere near the very first base with you be like _this_. You really, really like him. You want to do right by him. 

But his hand is in your hair and his cock is pushing at your lips and that hand feels very strong and steady right now. 

"C'moon, Dirky," he starts, whining, but you take the head into your mouth, hand sliding up his rumpled jeans to his hip, and Dave breaks off with a curse. 

He's surprisingly quiet as you suck him off, but restless with his hands and his hips. He crowds you in and you're forced to take him deep, squeezing an embarrassing tear out the corner of your eye, trying to swallow around him. When he pulls out and you have to cough, you can't heed the warnings, there's too much heat in your face. You only note that your fingers are cramped and numb from clutching at him and you feel like you've drooled all over your chin and now gravity's coming fast at you sideways, laying you out with a heavy body thumping on top of you. 

Dave kisses blindly at your mouth as you gasp, you've hit your elbow this time and it pings. 

"Ow, Dave," you say, strained. Air puffs over your ear as he laughs by it. His leg pushes yours apart, his hand fumbling up between them to push hard and sudden at your crotch and you moan, _fuck_. You're aching down there what the fuck, bursting out of those pants, you didn't realise. 

Your hands clutch at his shirt, buzzing faintly with pins and needles as he keeps rocking the heel of his palm into you. Your head falls back. He follows, talking into your ear, sending shocks down your back. 

"Heeey, is it working? Hey Dirk, cum to the dark side." 

You laugh between gasps, you can't help it, and it seems to spur him into fidgeting over you, you can feel him on every movement. Jesus, you're dizzy. That strawberry smell is so strong. 

Cold air hits your cock before Dave hitches his hips against yours, and you're so sensitive. Your hands slip to grip at his shoulders, the rest of you seizing up. 

"Fuck, Da-" 

You don't have time, he's unrelenting, pushing against you and pulling back faster and faster. He's just shoving your groins together, something'll bruise, but you feel it right through you with each shock and drag and trying to concentrate is not in your vocabulary now. His hands somehow make it into your hair, tangling, and he's breathless when he talks to you. 

"Tell me it's working... tell me you're happy now..."

One of his fingers catch in your hair too tight, and you tip over the edge, tightly scrunching your eyes closed. You jolt against him as he keeps going, and a whimper escapes you but you barely notice, he's so close and heavy and hot. 

He doesn't stop and you don't know if you want him to, you don't know what you want, you want to stay with him real and solid and wringing out all your nerve endings, forcing all this feeling into you. It fills up all the ache. 

When he gasps and comes, hides his face in your neck, everything feels incredibly tender. Immediately you move your arms round his waist, keep him locked to you. You feel wrecked. 

Something's different about him. He's quiet, breathing slow, and the sweet, cloying smell seems to have faded. You just smell old wool and Dave, and faint orange soda. 

It's late, and you lay there still for a long while, waiting for him. Sleep claims you. 

... 

Light pulls you into consciousness, a thin, bright strip of it across your eyelids from the gap under the door. It takes a minute for your brain to catch up with the situation, the heavy weight on your chest and the goosebumps on your arms. This place... it looks like a different world in the light of day. 

Is Dave awake...? You don't dare move to find out. 

This close to the floor, you can hear distant footsteps on wood in the distance, faint voices. Shit. You wish you could ask Dave what time it is. 

He stirs on you with a sigh, tucking in more to your neck. Biting your lip, you move your arms off him very slowly, carefully, and lay them by your sides to not wake him up any more. You're a bit late though. He's already picking his head up. It's his normal blonde again. Same as yours. 

He looks at you and you look at him, his eyebrows are all furrowed. He looks scared and then, must find something, because his brow smooths out and he looks determined. You have no idea what to do, you're just waiting. 

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "For going full - jesus - full next level circus freak on you."

"Do you remember anything?" 

"Well, I think I can fuckin' guess, dude, I think we're plastered together here..." He peters off, chewing his lip. "Look, I'll just-" He starts clambering off you just as you hear the turn of a door handle, and like a fucking ninja you grab him and slam him back on top of you. Unfortunately you don't have time to yank up his suit pants. 

The door opens with a swish along the carpet and you see a mane of black curls peek around it. 

"Oh! Well!" says Jade. 

"Ow," whispers Dave. 

"I thought I didn't see you two go home last night," continues Jade, and you wish you had your katana on hand to commit seppuku or whatever. She's got a casual shirt on and a streamer stuck in her hair. Probably on aftermath clean up duty. "You know... it's not very _cool_ of you Dave to ditch on your own Rose's wedding like that." 

Dave half whines, half groans into your chest so you decide to take the lead. 

"To be fair, enough of the party got hopped up on alien candy to ruin the rest of it."

She laughs. "Yeah. Did you know it was the cake that was laced with it?" 

"I figured. Afterwards."

"Mhm." Jade sighs and rests her cheek against the door. "I guess I'll have to have a word with Calliope...or Jane? Maybe both. Anyway!" Her gaze trails suspiciously to the vicinity of Dave's ass. "Get dressed and I will leave you to it! See you, Dave."

The door closes shut and the closet is a little bit dimmer again. Dave is surprisingly quiet and still. You move your hand to his hair, scrunch your fingers in it gently. You dunno, when Roxy does that to you getting the gel outta there it feels good. His shoulders don't relax, though.

"Dirk, I'm really sorry. For last night. I know I must've been a class-A asshole and ruined the party and. Hurt you. So, I understand if you hate me and I promise I will do anything to... to make it... I will get the fuck outta your hair asap."

"Yeah? You're not doing much moving right now, dude," you tease. 

"Yeah well that's cause you got me in a naked choke-hold right now, I'm not gonna rip out of your hands like we're wrestling or something. Look, just," he huffs and shifts on you. "Just tell me what you want me to do. Please." He sounds so pitiful. 

"No, nothing," you rush to say. "It's not... I just wish it had happened under different circumstances. One where you would have remembered. I would have made you remember, for the rest of a godtier cycle."

"What?" His response is soft and confused. You tuck his hair behind his ear to make room to put your fingers on his cheek, your chest feeling shakey despite his weight. He finally lifts his head up to look at you, eyes bare and lost, and you surge up to kiss him, miss and get the septum of his nose. 

"Wh-" he snorts, "Dirk." 

You readjust that trajectory quick and get his mouth this time, and it takes a hesitant second before he responds. The kissing is very different now, but his small breaths between are still familiar, short and quick. He doesn't let you kiss him for long, mumbling against your mouth, "C'mon dude, be mad."

"Nah, I can't. Like you too much." you respond. 


End file.
